Page 53 of Inked Desires

I sigh. Why does he need the details?

“William. Andrew showed up at the worst possible time,” I give in to satisfy his curiosity.

“You slept with him, huh?”

“No, damn it! I didn’t sleep with my ex. William just started groping me, and I was too shocked to push him away,” I explain, clenching my teeth.

Kiran stares at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently, he doesn’t believe me either. Great.

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

I sigh again, pressing the cold glass to my forehead. The pounding in my head is unbearable.

“I stammered like an idiot, but Andrew didn’t want to hear it. No matter what I said, he didn’t care. He immediately labeled me the asshole,” I say, frustrated.

“Maybe because you are an asshole,” he mocks.

“But not the kind that would cheat on the man he loves,” I growl.

“You love him?”

The surprise in his voice is almost palpable. My confession shocks him — and me too. It’s one thing to admit it silently, another to say it out loud.

“It doesn’t matter,” I spit through clenched teeth.

I drop the glass and grab the bottle. I drink straight from the neck.

“You love him and you’re not going to get him back?” he insists.

Yes, damn it. I’m not going to chase him. I’m not his damn lapdog.

“I don’t need someone in my life who doesn’t trust me and always assumes I’m the worst. I can handle that alone,” I say resignedly, standing up.

The discussion is over for me. I don’t want to analyze my feelings anymore. I prefer to wallow in misery for a while before facing reality and getting my business back on track.

Kiran doesn’t follow me. He knows he won’t get anywhere with me today. And good. I just need a shower, a clean bed, and maybe another bottle of whiskey.

Tomorrow will be a new day. I’ll deal with the mess in the shop later. For now, the chaos on the floor perfectly reflects my emotions. A tasteless masterpiece signed by the bitter artist I’ve become.

Instead of following my plan, I don’t make the bed. I don’t take a shower. I flop down on his side of the bed and drown in his scent.

A wet sensation slides down my cheek. I raise my hand to my face.

Tears.

I bury my face deeper in the pillow. His scent soothes me, but the tears don’t stop. A strange, almost foreign feeling. How long had I not allowed myself this? What’s the point of crying? I’d convinced myself it was useless, that it wouldn’t change anything, that it only made me weaker.

Yet tonight, I have no strength left to fight. I let the tears fall silently, as if they betray everything I’m trying to bury inside.

CHAPTER 13

ANDREW

I’m used to taking hits, burying my emotions under an impenetrable shell, wearing a perfect mask so no one can guess the chaos brewing inside me. But tonight, it’s different. No matter how hard I try, every movement feels mechanical, every breath heavier. The pain lodged in my chest refuses to fade. It pounds, tears at me, suffocates me, reminding me constantly of what happened just hours ago.

I swallow the lump choking my throat and force my tears to stay put. I have to move forward. Always forward. I’ve learned to live with it.

The car stops in front of New London station. My old ride wouldn’t have taken me as far as I want, and anyway, Arès knows it. Jace does too, now. Better to leave it behind.